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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25214215">King-Game</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mackerooooons/pseuds/Mackerooooons'>Mackerooooons</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Cheating, Chess, Estel cameo, F/M, Fëanor is a good dad, Gen, I'm just throwing things out there at this point, It's Maedhros guys, Kidnap Dads, Kinda, Self-Worth Issues, Wait not relationship cheating, but it's justified, but they're justified, did you expect less?, game cheating, just a bit of a tough cookie, kidnapdoption, more self-worth issues, that looks wrong, there are no affairs, yes that is a thing, yes they did it</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 11:41:31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,884</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25214215</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mackerooooons/pseuds/Mackerooooons</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Maitimo struggles to find a skill worthy of a Feänarion. He doesn't find it where he expects.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Aragorn | Estel &amp; Elrond Peredhel, Elrond Peredhel &amp; Elros Tar-Minyatur, Elrond Peredhel &amp; Elros Tar-Minyatur &amp; Maedhros | Maitimo, Fëanor | Curufinwë &amp; Sons of Fëanor, Fëanor | Curufinwë/Nerdanel, It's a giant family!, Maedhros | Maitimo &amp; Maglor | Makalaurë, and more! - Relationship</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>99</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>King-Game</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Warnings for mentioned kinslayng and all that goes along with it. Like dead relatives. Also for self worth issues. </p><p>Is that a warning? Better safe than sorry.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Maitimo was a disappointment. All of his brothers had a skill, like his parents. From music to arithmetic to hunting, each son had discovered his talent early in life. (Tyelkormo's discovery had been... frightening, to say he least.) Curufinwë was a mirror image of their father, and Maitimo didn't even try being jealous of him. </p><p>But Maitimo himself just.... didn't have a skill. He was decent at metal working, but didn't enjoy it. The only statue he'd made was of the likeness of a squashed eggplant, and when he tried composing a song, Makalaurë had laughed and scribbled over it until it was a masterpiece with a chord progression that reflected a cadence that Maitimo wrote. That's what he'd said, anyway. Maitimo hadn't understood most of it. His lyrics were apparently fine though.</p><p>The only thing Maitimo really enjoyed was painting, and he was horrible at it. There was no way he could show his family. The teasing would be worse than when Moryo discovered his passion for embroidery. </p><p>Anyway, Maitimo was - and it seemed, always would be - the Third Finwe, head babysitter, doorframe striker, failure. Well Made indeed.</p><p>(Truly, he did strike his head on every door frame in Tírion)</p><p>Of course Findekano never shared his sentiments. When he'd explained his shortcomings to his young cousin, Findekano had bodily thrown him off the bridge they were crossing. As Maitimo sat startled in the stream, Finno had shouted at him that he had no right to think that way, that of course he was skilled, he was often the only thing keeping his family from murder.</p><p>Maitimo thought about that. While that was likely true, he wasn't so desperate as to call that a skill. It was surely no art. So he kept quiet from then on.</p><p>Then one day, Feanaro and Nerdanel put their heads together and after a while, surfaced with..... a game?</p><p>The sons gathered around the checkered table and lines of little statues.</p><p>"Arantyalmë, we've named it," Feanaro said proudly. "A game of strategy. Your Ammë and I have tried it and judge it a success."</p><p>Nerdanel leaned in. "This is the order. Rook, Ambassador, Advisor, King, Queen, and it descends from there. The line in front is made up of liegemen."</p><p>She and Feanaro explained the rules of the game and asked if anyone would like to play.</p><p>Curufinwe did, of course, and sat down across from his Atar. Nerdanel smiled, patted Feanaro on the shoulder and left to tend the evening meal. Maitimo set both the Ambarussar on his knees and scooted his chair closer.</p><p>Curvo lost. His king was captured within the first couple minutes. Moryo was next to play, and next to lose. Tyelko rushed his queen out, and lost her immediately after. He shoved back from the table in a huff, calling Huan sharply and striding outside.</p><p>Kano sat down tentatively. He held out longer than the others for sure, but it was a losing battle. Then a shout rang out.</p><p>"Feanaro! Something is burning and it is not my cooking! Did you leave your apron on the furnace again?! I swear if you did you are making the replacement by. Your. Self!"</p><p>Feanaro blanched and shot up and out of the room. </p><p>Makalaurë took the opportunity to slump on the table. Pulling a strand of hair from Pitya's mouth, Maitimo leaned forward. "Pst. Kano. Did you notice the pattern he used? He does every time. You need to use your Liegemen to block him in and use your embassador to threaten him. He'll move his king to the left and you'll have him in check if you move -"</p><p>Feanaro re-entered. Maitimo leaned back, rescued his hair again and attempted to look impassive. Kano struck his forehead.</p><p>The game continued as Maitimo had predicted. He mouthed the instructions he didn't have time for and Kano started to gain the upper hand. Until Feanaro didn't move. Maitimo stopped his silent advice and looked sheepishly at his Atar.</p><p>"So. I play not with whom I thought.  Nelyo." Feanaro... did not sound happy.</p><p>Maitimo attempted to look innocent. "Yes, Atya?"</p><p>Feanaro turned to Makalaure. "Is it safe to assume that I would have won?"</p><p>"Probably. You never know, though. Maybe I would have gotten lucky and landed on all those places without advice. There's no way to tell."</p><p>Feanaro snorted. "Kano, trade places with your brother." He began returning the pieces to the proper places. "Nelyo shall try his hand at arantyalmë. Not just his mind." He punctuated his statement with what the brothers had dubbed The Look.</p><p>Nelyo sat.</p><p>The game went on longer than it had with the other sons. By the end they were equally matched; king and queen against king and queen. After chasing each other around the board for a very long time, Maitimo finally took Feanaro's queen. The game was all but over. </p><p>Feanaro sat back, aghast. "Well." He knocked his king over. The sharp crack of stone on stone rang through the room. "Nelyafinwë. As the eldest son of the crown prince, I believe it is time for you to begin utilising your talents of strategy in the court. Meet me and your grandfather in the garden tomorrow at noon. Do not be late."</p><p>Feanaro's intense stare was cut off by yet another shout from the kitchen. "I tried to be patient, but if that game isn't over, you're going to eat or you're going to starve. No questions!"</p><p>Feanaro's lips quirked up. "Well- we can't have that, can we?" He took up the Ambarussar and departed from the room. </p><p>Makalaurë and Maitimo blinked at each other for a moment. Makalaurë snickered. "You made him proud, I think. I did tell you you would. Now I for one, am hungry. Come along, Russo."</p><p> </p><p>~~~~~~~</p><p> </p><p>Elros slumped against the table. "But I don't waaant to play king-game. Why do I have to play king-game?!" </p><p>Maedhros loomed over him, arranging the pieces slowly. He had his "rememory face," the one where his eyes glowed more than usual, and the scar on his left cheek pulled his lip wrong. Elros didn't like his rememory face. "Because."</p><p>Elros waited. After a bit, he asked, "Because of what."</p><p>Maedhros fixed him with a Look, one that could quell any type of misbehaviour by itself. "Elros, you know well that I do not respond to questions asked in whine. Try again."</p><p>Elros sighed. "Attya, why must I play king-game?"</p><p>As always, Maedhros started at the title, and guilt darkened his features before he schooled himself. "Arantyalmë is a game of strategy. It teaches you to take every aspect of a situation into consideration and weigh and predict the opponent's actions. The Enemy moves in ways that you don't expect. You must learn to outsmart even him."</p><p>Elros sighed again. He moved his first piece, a white liegeman. Maedhros brought out his knight. Back and forth, until suddenly - "Checkmate."</p><p>Elros sat back, startled. "How did- But- .... I don't like king-game."</p><p>Elrond sat forward. "I assume it's my turn?" He slipped off a dozing Maglor's lap and took his place. He lost as well, just a bit slower.</p><p>Maedhros detailed how exactly each had failed, and sent them to bed. Maglor opened one eye.</p><p>"Maedhros, don't you think they're a little young to appreciate Arantyalmë? Curvo hated it until he was over fifty years old!"</p><p>"You remember that Celegorm hated it until he died. But it doesn't matter whether they hate it. I would have them able to out-strategise me as soon as possible. We do not know whom we will be called to slay."</p><p>"Maedhros, you know that none can out-strategise you. You-"</p><p>Maedhros struck the table, standing up so quickly that his chair nearly toppled over. "Oh, indeed? Indeed?! Yes, I, the great strategist, former of the Union of Maedhros, organiser of the fifth battle, Dagor Nirnaeth Arnoediad. I led them to death. All of them! Even our brothers. The oath makes my try, but the Doom makes me fail. Oh, they will out-strategise me, Maglor. I will be sure of it."</p><p>He stalked out of the room. Maglor placed his head in his hands and wept.</p><p> </p><p>~~~~~</p><p> </p><p>Elros studied the board. He'd cornered almost all of Maedhros' pieces, and his king was only barely sheltered. He grinned. "Going well, Atya?"</p><p>Maedhros raised an eyebrow. "Checkmate." Elros looked back at the board in shock. His king was safely in a corner guarded by a rook and an advisor. He spluttered. Maedhros smirked and waved a hand. The rook and advisor misted and turned black. That was when Elros had realised that there had been three white rooks and advisors. He stood, scandalised. "But- but that's not fair! You can't do that. I don't know how to do that! It's not fair!"</p><p>"Elros, you are nearing adulthood. You should know by now that the enemy does not deal in fairness. Near all of his victories were worked from inside. You must keep a close eye on even your own, for those you trust most will be most deadly." </p><p>Elros resolutely pounded his head on the table. It took a Look from Elrond to get him to stop. Elrond switched places.</p><p>"He's pretending to be the Enemy, 'Ros. Pretend his pieces are orcs. This isn't a game, it's training. Like forest hunt."</p><p>"I don't like this training game though. In forest hunt we actually get to do something." Elros slumped in the nearby chair. "This one is boring." </p><p>Maedhros raised an eyebrow. "You won't think it's boring when you use the skills in war. Your move, Elrond." After an excruciating two hours, though it seemed less, Elrond captured Maedhros's last subject with his own. Elrond had two pieces on the board, and Maedhros had only one. Elrond leapt up with a shout of triumph and did a little dance with Elros. </p><p>Maedhros gave an almost imperceptible sigh of relief and smiled sadly at the board. He was startled out of his musing by a body slamming into him.</p><p>He instinctively reached for his knife before recognising the hug for what it was. He reciprocated it, startled though he was. </p><p>Elrond mumbled into his shoulder, "Thank you for the lesson. Can we play again, Atya?"</p><p>Maedhros smiled at his enthusiasm. "Not right now, young one. You and your brother are due for a history lesson with my own brother."</p><p>Elros groaned.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>~~~~~~~</p><p> </p><p>"What are you doing there, young one?"</p><p>Estel started, almost knocking down the tower of tiny statues he was making. He turned. "Arckalecture. Erestor said it's important. Glorfindel says it's not. They're still saying it. So I thought I'd see which one it was by myself. Is it important?"</p><p>Elrond smiled. "Indeed it is, though perhaps not as much as Erestor thinks it is. But this is not for architecture. This is a game. In the common tongue it is called Chess, though I knew it as Aratelias. My father taught it to me."</p><p>Estel looked shocked. "A star taught you a game? Does he even have hands?"</p><p>"No, the star did not teach me anything." Elrond's face darkened. "Earendil is my sire, though he has not been my father. And he has hands! Though my father had only one. Now my son, let me show you how this is played."</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Oh my word, I wrote a happy ending! I didn't know I was capable.</p><p>Guide to the Names:</p><p>Maedhros: Maitimo, Russandol(Russo) Nelyafinwë(Nelyo)</p><p>Maglor: Makalaurë, Kanafinwë(Kano)</p><p>Celegorm: Tyelkormo(Tyelko), Turkafinwë(Turko)</p><p>Caranthir: Carnistir, Moryofinwë(Moryo)</p><p>Curufin: Atarinkë, Curufinwë(Curvo)</p><p>Amrod and Amras: Ambarussa (Ambarussar plural) (yes, both if them.), Pityafinwë(Pitya) and Telvofinwë (Telvo)</p><p>Fingon: Findekanno(Finno)</p><p>I think that's it.</p><p>Oh! Also, Arantyalmë means King-game. Aratelias is the same in Sindarin.<br/>I renamed some of the pieces, based on happenings. A Bishop is an Advisor, a knight is an ambassador because Valinor, and pawns are liegemen... literally just because. Just in case it wasn't clear.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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